Thursday, February 7, 2013

Greetings from Lake Bonneville

Greetings from Lake Bonneville

Somewhere in Utah, a volcano’s stomach
growled, six million years ago. Magma

bubbled up, hot, thick, made into lava
by air. Pockets of gas formed in the quick-

cooling rock as it settled, dragon-haunched,
over the land. Groundwater swirled through

land’s veins, like magma, spat minerals into
the rock and then, into the hollows. Launch

space into the solid pieces of the world,
and see if it doesn’t get filled, caves

and their stalactite grins, tidal waves
beginning at earth’s split lip and hurled

at shores. Good old Lake Bonneville
shows up 30,000 years ago, yo-yos

in size, and digs its claws into those
rocky pockets (remember them) still

clamped up tight like oysters, before
they’re split. Here’s that round rock.

Your chisel. And you, who the clock
and the geode have been waiting for.

2 comments:

  1. Per usual, excellent bonding of concept and imagery, great visuals creating ideas in the mind. Geology as anatomy was cleverly done.

    I really, really enjoyed the rhyme scheme, too.

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  2. About The Curator, dinosaur poem, I especially like:

    Did they know
    that theirs was
    an extraordinary ending,

    communal, or did they each slip from
    consciousness, privately processing
    the individual calamity of being stopped.

    I think that what we do and do not know is a huge and important subject. Also I love the issue of Private vs. Communal. Maybe because it starts a new line and stanza, "communal" seems a surprisingly wonderful word, more striking and effective than I can explain.

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